


What else can go wrong?

by My_Coffee_Is_Hot_Chocolate



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, It's gonna sizzle, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, That good friendship, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24023812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Coffee_Is_Hot_Chocolate/pseuds/My_Coffee_Is_Hot_Chocolate
Summary: If you combine the current apocalypse and a zombie apocalypse. You get this monster baby with Les Amis thrown in.Now, in 2021, Grantaire was alone. He wandered alone for very obvious reasons, spending his days hungry and raiding art stores for every art supply he could carry. The best part of the apocalypse really.Then of course his solitude was ruined. When his day ever not ruined?
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy/Éponine Thénardier, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Kudos: 9





	1. Day 1

The world ended in 2020. 

Of course, for Grantiare, introvert artist extrodinare, not much had felt like different preceding the end in late September. The world was still reeling from the virus that had spread everywhere and many were bracing for the next spike.

And when it did it was deadlier. 

When society collapsed, things didn't feel like they could get much worse. But then they did. Because some fungus that made zombies infected the pluage pits outside of cities across the world.

Now, in 2021, Grantaire was alone. He wandered alone for very obvious reasons, spending his days hungry and raiding art stores for every art supply he could carry. The best part of the apocalypse really. He made his way around the country, and he was fairly happy with his life and his new label as a freak of nature for surviving was better then his old one of 'the weird ugly guy'.

It was a warm April day, though it had been a long time since he knew the exact date, and he sat down on a now desolate stretch of highway. There weren't any cars on the road, maybe a semi or two, but walking down these roads was usually very lonely and he liked it that way. 

He'd found a cabin nestled by the side of the road. The morning sun made it glow and Grantiare had to paint it. He'd been working for a couple of hours before he was disturbed. He heard it before he saw it.

When he looked up, he was startled into jumping to the side of the road, abandoning the painting.

A gut smeared semi truck was racing down the highway at breakneck speed, with an RV right behind it. He watched in amazement as they roared closer. He hadn't seen much of anything man made in months.

He barely had time to be in awe before both were screeching to a stop near him, and someone leaned out. "GET IN HERE!!" A large, balding man shouted at him. Grantiare was frozen stiff. 

A girl with wild curly hair leaned out of the other semi window. "THERE'S A FUCKING HOARD COMING SO I RECOMMEND YOU GET THE FUCK IN HERE!"

He didn't need to be told twice. He scooped up all his things and raced to the cab, and the door was thrown open. Masks and bandanas were pulled up, and Grantaire struggled to pull up his. But he managed it. The door was slammed shut behind him and the balding man floored it. Grantiare was stuffed in the back bed thing with two other people, and the girl from earlier turned around. Her mask was a bandana, pulled tight around her nose and mouth. "Who are you? Do you know if you're infected? Where are you from? Why's your hair over your eye like that?"

Grantiare starred for a moment. What was he supposed to answer first? What could he answer first? "Uh… René Grantiare, most people just call me R. I never got tested but I never had any symptoms. I'm from Paris but I was going to school in Providence, and it's a scar." He answered them one by one as best he could. 

The girl seemed satisfied. "Keep your mask on until we test you, you could be asymptomatic. I'm Éponine, shortened so many ways I can't list them. Driver is Bussoet, and next to you are my beautiful boyfriend and girlfriend Marius and Cosette." Éponine spoke with such authority he couldn't help but listen. "Rules are no touching until tested and you can't charge your phone until we stop, but we have too many battery packs to count so you should be okay."

Grantiare starred. "Battery packs? You guys have electricity?" 

The girl next to him -Cosette, nodded. "The RV has a large battery." She explained. "We use it for all our electronics."

Grantiare felt hope. "Can I plug in a laptop?" He asked excitedly. He could finally use his surface pro again! He had missed digital art so much.

Cosette nodded. "You'll have to share a power strip with Enjolras though, there's only one open plug left."

Grantiare didn't care. "I'll be fine. Thank you, thank you so much." He was ecstatic. Even if he had to deal with someone else, that didn't matter. He could charge his phone and laptop, he could actually check the date and find YouTube videos that brought him joy. Even if his social interaction battery was rapidly draining.

Éponine had been fiddling with the radio until she found whatever she was looking for. "Everybody quiet!" She hissed. "It's NPR!"

The cab grew silent aside from the road noise and the engine. The radio was muffled slightly, but got clearer after a moment.

"Good afternoon. The time is 8:00 Eastern Standard, May 2ed, 2021. I am broadcasting from a secure studio in Washington DC. Any and all survivors, tune on in."

The occupants of the cab all leaned a little closer. 

"Today, Greenland still stands as a beacon of hope for the world as the sole country in the world with neither infection or undead. President Trump announced last night that the plan to detonate a nuclear bomb in New York City was unsuccessful, as the sovrign island of Manhattan has declared they will create an international incident if the bomb is to be dropped. The United Kingdom has officially lost yet another member, with Scotland and Northern Ireland seceding to join the European Union, and Welsh voters are voting today through a specially constructed website to make their choice. The island remains one of two without the undead, with fires burning night and day."

Grantiare hadn't heard half of this news. Since when was half of this happening in the world? He knew things were bad there but England was being left by itself. 

"The firm championing a vaccine for Covid-19 has officially been lost today, after a hoard found it and wiped through the entire facility. A lab in Boston has picked up where they left off as best they can and is working to create a vaccine." 

Even the road seemed silent.

"That concludes this morning's report. Live from Washington DC, this is NPR." The radio cut to static, and no one said a word for what felt like an hour.

Eventually someone turned on their Bluetooth and put on Moana, and the mood lifted slightly as they began to sing along. Grantiare, meanwhile, curled up in the back of the bed thing and took a bit of time away. They all left him alone, and knowing other humans were around, somehow, made him calmer to fall asleep. He had a feeling he'd feel a lot better after a nap.


	2. Day 1, continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantiare makes many friends. He's a friendly person!
> 
> Also here comes the boy!!!

Grantaire was right, for once. When he woke up, he was as rested as he had been in ages. He sat up and yawned, looking around at cab. It was lit up differently now, and the clock on the dashboard said it was about noon. He yawned exaggeratedly and rolled over. "Goooood morning San Francisco." He said, feeling relaxed enough to joke. "Anybody got a beer?" He'd raided a liquor store in the last town he'd been in, he'd stayed drunk for a couple of days but he'd run out the previous day.

He was tossed a Corona beer, and he chuckled at the irony as he opened it. He chugged it as fast as he could and wasn't quite satisfied, but he had a nice buzz that loosened him up. "So, my fine band of friends, where are we headed? Neverland?"

Éponine rolled her eyes. "Of course you're a friendly drunk. We're just going anywhere. No real plan." She sounded kinda disappointed. "We used to make an effort, but we don't actually have much we can do anymore."

Grantiare sighed dramatically. "Why so sad? No other drivers, no big world saving responsibilities, what's not to love besides the death?"

Éponine cracked open a beer of her own. "I'll drink to that." She said with a small chuckle. "This whole mess got rid of my parents for me!" She cackled.

Cosette reached for a beer. "Nobody misses them, that's for sure." Éponine raised her can and drank the rest. 

Grantiare looked out the window, watching the forest rush past. He swore he saw things moving, but he had no real idea if they were or if he was seeing things. Eventually the buzz wore off and the remainder of the day was spent trading stories with Éponine and making a friendship with Barhol. Turns out they both liked to box. 

Around hour seven, Éponine draped herself on Grantiare's shoulder. "You're my new best friend, 'sides the loves of my life. Speakin' of, you gay? You seem queer."

Grantiare chuckled and cracked another beer. "Bisexual as the day is long, they'd have loved me in Greece." He joked. "I'm an artist and I was poetic constantly, especially around someone who's really hot."

"Are we not hot?" Marius, a incredibly freckled boy who looked like a puppy, asked. 

Grantiare rolled his eyes. "Of course you are, but you're also spoken for and I don't date married men." He poked the ring on Marius' finger with his worn out sneaker.

Éponine threw back her head and laughed. "Knew there was a reason I liked you! You'll fit right in!"

When they finally stopped at 8 pm, as the sun was setting, Grantiare was very ready to get out. They had stopped at an abandoned rest stop and made a small circle with the semi trailer, the cab, and the RV. And a multitude of people came out of each. Two men went to steal some gas from the pumps and another hobbled out of the trailer with a cane. Another girl ran up to Barhol and the man with the cane, and they all seemed quite pleased to see one another. A cheerful redhead with a tattered skirt made a small fire in the center, though they searched the outskirts of the fire's light worriedly. 

Grantiare didn't care. He ran -as best he could 10 beers in- for the RV and looked for the single unoccupied plug. He found it at a small table, and someone else was already sitting there. He, again, didn't care. He plugged his phone into one of the many chargers on a power strip and his laptop cable into the open plug. That caught this new man's notice. 

He was gorgeous, with curly hair that fell to his mid back, blue eyes that stood out like sapphires, and a gaze that reminded Grantiare of a painting. He wanted to capture that gaze. It made him feel like he was going to be set on fire. He loved the feeling, he relished it almost. And when the angle spoke, he listened to every word.

"Get the fuck out of here."

Grantiare did as he was told and stumbled out of the RV, grinning like a madman. He collapsed by the fire next to the redhead and started talking. "I have met the perfect image of a man." He proclaimed dramatically, one hand stretched to the embers. "And he cast me out into the cruel darkness, but I have no care! For I have glimpsed his beauty. And if all I ever earn is his wrath I will do whatever it takes to earn it back!" He said.

Someone patted his shoulder. "You met Enjolras, didn't you?" A man inquired, sitting beside him. He had short, curly hair and hickory brown eyes, and his skin was the color of a deep tan. If Grantiare had not already fallen in love, he would have been all over this guy.

"I'm Courfyac. Well, Filipe Coufyac. But no one calls me Filipe." The man said. "And you are?"

"René Grantiare, pleasure to meet you. The god in there, his name is Enjolras?" He inquired. He had to know this man."

Courfyac nodded. "Samuel Enjolras, but don't call him Sam or Sammy. He nearly bashed Marius' head in for calling him that." 

Grantiare made immediate plans to call him Sammy. "Got it. He's gorgeous.." 

Another man, white as snow with light blond hair and grey eyes, sat beside Courfyac. "He is. Everyone who likes men here has had a crush on him. Besides Valjean, but I have no idea who he likes. Never says a word about it."

Courfyac nods. "We don't ask him, and he kinda leads us around. It works for him, apparently he's looking for someone. But I digress. Grantiare, meet Micheal Combeferre. My beloved boyfriend."

Combeferre quickly piped up. "Nice to meet you! Glad to have a new face around." He shook Grantiare's hand very excitedly. He seemed quite friendly, and the three made good conversation while dinner was prepared by the redhead from earlier. They seemed to have a talent for it, since they made canned beans and rice smell good. It even drew Enjolras from his lair and hoarding of the table, and Grantiare couldn't take his eyes off of him.

Thankfully, the gorgeous man noticed and gave him a glare that pierced his heart. Grantiare took it like it was fresh water after days in the hot desert. He'd never been known for healthy romantic relationships, why start now? Not over a lovely warm, so so warm dinner. It could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Grantiare can not have healthy romantic relationships at the start of this. He gets to learn! Again, my Les Mis Tumblr is join-in-the-fight, and I adore comments and kudos!!!
> 
> (What do you think Enjolras was reading?)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all!! I'm working on the next chapter as we speak, I'm going to try to update this weekly. Maybe Saturdays? Anyways, have this. My Les Mis Tumblr is @join-in-the-fight, this will be posted there to!


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